


how to say i love you without saying "i love you"? let him wear your jacket

by evaneddie



Category: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)
Genre: Character Death, Established Relationship, Idfk fam, Is that something we tag?, Jacket sharing, M/M, Mild Swearing, Not a character we know just talk of a family member passing away, So yeah, also part one has talk of being sick/throwing up, also talk of sex, and a minor mention of an iv in hospital, cuteness, enjoy?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:47:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22771219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evaneddie/pseuds/evaneddie
Summary: they wear each other's jackets cuz that's soft and we stan
Relationships: Carlos Reyes (9-1-1 Lone Star)/TK Strand
Comments: 37
Kudos: 540





	1. carlos in tk's jacket

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Agayfish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Agayfish/gifts).



> prompt from a-gay-fish on tumblr:
> 
> hi hoe give me them wearing the others jacket and the firefam commenting on it or die ly thanks bye
> 
> my best bitch prompted me this and who am i to disappoint? i hope everyone enjoys this two parter fic. let me know what y'all think :D

Carlos had been sitting on the floor of the ambulance, his long legs dangling over the edge, almost able to touch his feet to the concrete below. He was shivering lightly, the chill of the evening air biting harshly at his skin, threatening to make his bones hurt if he doesn't get warm soon. The house fire had taken a toll on everyone involved in diffusing the situation. Carlos especially.

Rivalry between neighbours is never something to be taken lightly, and can oftentimes turn into something much more than it ever needs to be. Things escalate so quickly sometimes that nobody can see it coming.

He shouldn't even feel cold, the dwindling flames around them should be enough to keep his body temperature regulated if not slightly higher than normal. That should be his first warning sign, to actually listen to what Michelle is telling him, but alas, he doesn't. He's too stubborn to accept help, even when deep down he knows he needs it.

The second warning sign he ignores is the fact that he's zoning out a lot, not paying attention to his surroundings. Paying attention to his surroundings is something he does on the daily as it's literally written into his job description. But he can't. He just can't focus without his eyes falling off centre and blurring his vision ever so slightly.

Then TK is by his side, resting a strong hand on his shoulder. He had been busy putting out the flames and hadn't gotten the chance to take a step back and see how Carlos was doing. When everything had went down, he remembers hearing the worry in TK's voice, hearing it crack as he called out to him in panic. At least he knows that his short term recollection skills aren't compromised, that's a plus.

"Baby, what are you doing? Why aren't you going to the hospital?" Baby. They'd officially been together for the last two months, not publicly yet, but officially nonetheless, and hearing his boyfriend call him pet names always made his heart flutter. Unofficially? It had been something close to a year. Somewhere inside of him, he knows he will never be able to get over the fact that this wonderful man had chosen him as the one he wanted to be with, and even years into the future his heart will still skip a beat when TK calls him something other than his name.

He'd been thinking for too long, as the hand on his shoulder squeezed gently to bring his attention back to the same plane of existence as everyone else around him. As much as his head and eyes really hurt, he can't help but look at the man in front of him with adoration. At least until his eyes go funny again.

"Love, 'm fine," he drawls in an answer. The state of his speech doesn't do much to help the case he's trying to build.

All he wants to do is go home and hold his husband - haha, oops, he means boyfriend - in their bed and sleep soundly. Now all he can think about is how Tyler would react to Carlos using husband for him. To Carlos it would be amazing, a dream come true. But he can't ask. Not yet. It is way too soon. Even in his lopsided state, he manages to push that thought to the side for now.

Michelle's voice speaks up from the inside of the ambulance, "Carlos, here, has a concussion and refuses to get checked out at the hospital." She's a kind woman, Michelle, but don't ever get in her bad books because she can rain fire down on your parade.

Hey, isn't that a Dolly Parton song? _I'm gonna rain on your_ \- wait, it's not Dolly Parton, what the hell was he thinking? It's Duffy. They do sound similar. Both in voices and names. So in hindsight he can totally see where he messed up and can excuse it. He almost laughs out loud at how silly everything seems, but the thought of his muscles moving in that way churns his stomach. So he holds it in.

TK looks beautiful in this light, and Carlos wonders how he ever got so lucky.

"Carlos, you're really out of it. Please listen to Michelle and go to the hospital. I'll be there with you, so you won't be alone," TK pleads, his voice near begging.

"Tiger," Carlos whispers, trying to keep his eyes open, "I'm fine."

"Prove it," comes the response without hesitation. Then, TK takes three steps backward away from Carlos.

No, come back. 

"TK, I don't think that's such a good idea." Michelle, the voice of reason, like always. She's always been a good friend to Carlos, looking out for him in the same way he looks out for her. They have a really good relationship.

"He's going to be sick the second he gets up, and I'll grab him," TK replies to the paramedic captain.

"I wanna go home," is all the injured officer can manage.

"We can go home. If you can walk to me in a straight line without getting sick." There isn't enough incentive for Carlos to try, so he continues to sit, pouting with his arms crossed loosely in front of his chest, and his head lulling to the side.

"Not sick."

"Fine," TK states. "If you can walk to me, we will go home. If you go to the hospital and they say that you are fine, we will go home and I will let you do whatever you want to do to me." 

Is this a form of blackmail? Carlos is a cop, he should know the answer to this. But his brain is all muddled with a low throbbing of pain and thoughts of fucking TK into the wee hours of the morning.

"You let me 'nyways," Carlos smirks, loving where this conversation is going, even if both Michelle and TK's dad are nearby.

"Perhaps, but if you don't go, you get nothing in the bedroom." He can't be serious can he?

"No fair." The response comes out more whiney than he anticipated, but it all adds to the back and forth they have going. At least, he thinks it does, he can't be too sure. 

Then he stands, or at least, he tries. The instant his legs are straightened and he's standing upright, his knees buckle underneath his body and the ground gets closer to his face, and his stomach drops faster than the rest of his body. 

Bile rises up in his throat, and he notices TK reaching out to him before he falls completely. The second TK's arms engulf his shaky body, Carlos loses all content in chunks to the ground next to them. As much as he knows TK loves him, he would not appreciate vomit all over him, so Carlos silently celebrates when it lands on the bitumen.

"Shit, you're shaking like a leaf. Here," he mumbles before shuffling around a little bit to shrug his departmentally issued jacket off. It's the one that has TK's name on it, and although Carlos is close to losing consciousness, he knows that much and appreciates how it wraps nicely around his own body. It's almost as if he's shouting to the world that he belongs to TK, and that feels amazing.

Michelle and TK work together to help Carlos into the back of the ambulance and onto the bed that's perfectly Carlos sized. 

It's so bright inside the vehicle, and Carlos closes his eyes against the harsh white light.

His eyes are heavy when he wakes up in a quiet room. It feels as though the lids are being weighed down by concrete slabs, or some really strong tape over them. The pain in his head is thumping, and he's still nauseous, but it doesn't seem as intense as earlier, thankfully.

"You're awake," TK whispers to him, probably being cautious of his volume for Carlos' sake. It's sweet.

"Hey Tiger," Carlos says back with a wide smile. Blinking a few times, he allows his eyes to adjust to the room, and he sees that he's in hospital. The warmth encompassing his hand is relaxing, and he looks down to see TK's fingers intertwined with his own.

"Do you need anything?"

Carlos thinks for a moment, his brain feeling sluggish, but sturdy. "Feel sick."

It wouldn't surprise him if he throws up again, but he hopes that maybe the nurses can give him some anti-nausea medication.

TK reaches over the bed with his free hand and presses the call button. It feels like an eternity, but he knows is barely three minutes by the time he gets something into his system, and starts working pretty quickly. Oh thank heavens.

A kiss is placed softly onto his hand near where the needle pokes out of his vein, and Carlos smiles at the gesture. He really loves this man.

"Did I really let you bribe me with sex in front of your dad?" he asks.

To which TK chuckles, and nods. "Yeah. But just so you know, I'll be the one fucking you into the wee hours of the morning."

"Oh, shit. Did I say that out loud?" None of this can really be happening. It can't be real.

"Michelle thought it was hilarious. I, on the other hand, find it offensive that you try to play the top in this relationship when we both know that you're a vers," TK teases.

"You're a vers too, so shut up."

"I think they were more shocked that you almost cried when I gave you the jacket with my name on it."

Carlos can't bear to see the smug look on the other's face so he closes his eyes and rests his head back on the pillow with a groan. "Why me?" he questions nobody in particular.

Funny how a blow to the head with a baseball bat can really mess up your life for a day or two. 

But in the end, the suspect was apprehended after hitting Carlos a few times, clearly. Nobody had gotten severely injured when said suspect had lit the fire in his neighbours home. Everything had worked out in the end, and he gets to have this beautiful person by his side through it all.

What more can you ask for?


	2. tk wearing carlos' jacket

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> part two is up and i hope you all enjoy this! i had fun writing it. remember if you have any 9-1-1 (fox and lone star) related prompts, shoot me an ask on my tumblr @evaneddie.  
> let me know what y'all think.

It's been a month since he's last seen his boyfriend, and to say he is missing Carlos would be the understatement of the century. A whole month without touching his body, without feeling his presence next to him as they sleep, without hearing his raspy voice in the mornings telling him he looks beautiful. They text every day, and video call as often as they can. But it isn't the same. A whole month without feeling Carlos inside of him, unraveling him with his love, of not feeling Carlos surrounding every inch of him.

A family emergency had called Carlos down south as they needed him by their sides. It was his grandmother. She had gotten sick over the last few weeks and things weren't looking too good for her. He'd decided to take some time off work and leave the city to go see her for what is very likely to be the last time. Ever.

For that reason, TK wishes he were there with Carlos, his heart breaking for the man. He'd gotten a phone call just three nights ago, the news of her passing flowing jaggedly through the receiver. Never before had he heard a strong man sound so broken. Not even on some of the worse calls he's been out to. No. Hearing Carlos cry softly into the phone was the most horrifying thing TK has experienced in his twenty-five years of existence. The worst part? All he wanted to do was just hold him tight, close to his body, tracing nonsensical patterns on his back with the hand that wouldn't be threaded into his lover's hair.

The funeral is today, and TK wakes up with a heavy feeling in his gut. The moment he's awake enough and eating breakfast, he calls Carlos. It only takes a few chimes before the call is answered and their faces fill both halves of the screen, split horizontally.

He looks tired. Not just physically, but emotionally too. They didn't say much, but stayed on the line with one another until TK needed to shower and head off to work.

A long twenty-four hour shift is the last thing he needs right now, but simultaneously it's probably good for him so he can lamely attempt to take his mind off everything else.

He misses the way Carlos' kisses taste. The rough and quick ones fuelling the desire in the pit of his belly, coiling around his insides; the soft and sweet ones, that are so full of care as they make love; the lazy ones as they pass by each other in the kitchen, or as they watch some television. Even after being intimate with each other so often for so long, nothing ever got boring. Sure, after a while they fell into a matching step, things settled down and they seemed content. But never once has it been boring. 

He misses the familiarity of it all, of being close to the man he loves. It's silly, really, how much he realises he needs Carlos. But he can't find it in himself to care.

Winters in Texas are nothing like those in New York. It's not quite Winter weather yet, but it is getting cooler lately, and the sun is rising later in the morning, and setting earlier in the evening. So TK grabs a jacket from Carlos' side of the closet in their bedroom and he pulls it on in one swift move.

He can't remember exactly, but Carlos must have worn it not too long before he left, as it still smells faintly of him. It's a beautiful mix of sandalwood and something akin to a freshly squeezed mandarin. Sleeping at the station is going to prove to be difficult tonight, knowing Carlos is mourning the loss of a family member and attending her funeral.

Just like anyone would do, he takes Carlos' soft jacket off, and folds it neatly before packing it into his duffel bag. Having the scent of his boyfriend nearby isn't the same as actually having him there, but it's as close as he's going to get anytime soon, so he takes it as a win. Besides, he's hoping it will help him get at least four hours well rested.

Throughout the day, whenever he can, he texts Carlos. Sometimes it's about nothing in particular. Other times he asks how the service was going. Obviously he knew the answer, but he was more asking about the little details, the stories Carlos was likely to be hearing, the colours of the flower arrangements, and other things like that. Thankfully, it seemed his point was getting across with the questions as the answers come back exactly as expected.

Finally, when it's time to crash, TK does exactly that. He crashes hard, practically falling onto the mattress, not even bothering with the blanket. The navy blue hoodie is enough to keep him warm as he sleeps anyway.

He has always loved this colour on Carlos, the depth of the shade complimenting his complexion. Not to mention it's the same blue as his uniform, the same one TK had mentioned that he looks damn hot in more than once. So many times he had wanted to rip said shirt off him and just take him the moment he walked in the door after a shift, but neither of them could afford the constant replacements it would cause.

The hoodie, much like TK's fire department jacket, is personalised to its owner, meaning the one he's currently snuggling into has 'Reyes' on the back in bold letters at the bottom. The comfort it gives him overshadows the crap he knows he's going to get for it when the team wake up, whenever that may be. Hopefully they can sleep through the night without an emergency. But if the alarm goes off, then so be it.

With one last thought of Carlos in his mind as he inhales the smell of the jacket, TK drifts off.

The team teasing him about the hoodie he wears happens, and it's just as he thought it would be.

Marjan speaks up first, poking his arm lightly as she teases. "Ooh, lover boy has it bad." Her voice is singsong-y and admittedly pleasant, but he doesn't need this at eight am.

Then Paul laughs heartily. "Is this a hint that you're changing your last name?"

A marriage joke, really? It is way too early in the morning for this shit. He loves them all, but sometimes it's like they're a large group of kid siblings bickering with one another and teasing to their hearts content.

Mateo doesn't use his words, but lets out a low wolf whistle and a wink in TK's direction.

"Leave him alone you guys," Judd groans, clearly in annoyance at the situation. "He's obviously whipped. Why are you talking about it? Y'all should be taking photos."

Oh. Well, here he thought Judd was sticking up for him. But no, he was making the situation worse, encouraging them. He's supposed to be the oldest one, not including the captain. But he's just as bad as the others.

TK laughs along with them, knowing they mean no harm. He's too exhausted to talk back, so he allows them to just have at it.

He does hear the signature sound of a camera snapshot, and he knows Judd definitely pulled out his phone and captured the moment, probably for either blackmail at a later date, or to send to Carlos once he was back on his feet and then taunt him about his "needy" boyfriend.

TK isn't needy. Well, he's as needy as anyone else is when they're in love. Plus, Carlos is the same way towards TK, so it isn't like he's alone in it.

Then, as TK has his back to the entrance of the kitchen with the rest of the team facing him, he sees their smiles change, not widen nor falter, but change, almost as if they feel accomplished with themselves.

For what? He is unsure.

"Why are you guys looking at me like that?" he asks them.

They stay silent, and TK is about to ask again when Mateo points to behind TK, and as he does, a gruff voice speaks behind him.

"Hey Tiger."

There's only one person that uses that nickname on him. Carlos. But what is he doing here? Shouldn't he be with his family?

Spinning quickly on his feet, TK whips around, his eyes finding the soft face he has missed too much. In a split second he is leaping into Carlos' arms and winding his own around the taller man's neck.

He hasn't held him in a month, hasn't been in the same room as him in a month let alone feeling his heartbeat under his chest. Everything about Carlos is something TK has missed more than ever.

Carlos has his strong arms around TK's waist, and TK damn near cried into the crook of his neck, just out of relief of having him close again.

"I missed you," TK mumbles, holding back his emotions. He can't cry over something so ridiculous.

A small sigh comes from Carlos before he talks. "I missed you too, Tyler Kennedy."

Not even TK's dad calls him by his first name, because TK hates it. But coming from Carlos? It seems right.

Knowing the team is still sitting around the kitchen, sipping away at their coffees and watching the reunion go down, TK knows he can't do too much with Carlos right now. But after their teasing? Maybe he could put on a little bit of a show.

He doesn't untangle his arms, but pulls his head back to look at his boyfriend in the eyes. Lurching forward, he presses his lips against lips and starts to move them fluidly, easily falling back into the same choreographed dance they always do with their mouths. It's wet, and passionate, and TK nearly comes undone right there. Carlos has a way of just making him feel so serene and at peace with everything.

Sucking lightly at Carlos' bottom lip, TK slips his tongue past the opening that has bloomed. He tastes no different. Maybe a little sadder, but that's to be expected after everything.

Wide hands are splayed across the taught surface of TK's back, and he's so close to letting Carlos slip his hands lower to the backside of his sweatpants, to cup his ass cheeks. But he assumes that may be going a little too far.

"Alright, alright enough boys," Paul cries, earning laughter from the others.

But TK doesn't stop. He slows down to long pecks, and smiles, but he doesn't stop.

"TK man come on," calls another voice. It sounds like Mateo but TK is too preoccupied to pay attention. It could have been Marjan.

He pulls his left hand away from Carlos, and twists his arm in a way that it shouldn't be able to do, and flips them off.

A new sound enters the room as Owen walks sleepily in. He's clearing his throat, attempting to stop everything that's going on.

He kisses Carlos' closed mouth a few more times, trailing away to the corner of his mouth, and then his prickly cheek, before resting his forehead on the other's.

Usually Carlos is pretty clean shaven, but today it looks as if he hadn't bothered to trim the hairs there in maybe a week. To be honest, it's kinda doing it for him.

They both breathe heavily with soft laughter filling the air from them and from around them.

"You look hot in my name, my love." 

My love? Carlos has called him so many names before, but not that one. It makes TK's stomach do a flip, and his pulse to increase.

Fuck, he loves this man.

"One day, baby, I promise. One day," TK murmurs. It's a promise he intends to keep. One day he will take Carlos' name and his hand.

"Get out of here," Owen laughs. "Go home, TK."

A gentle kiss is placed in the middle of TK's forehead, Carlos closing his eyes against it. It's so soft, and perfect.

As they're walking out the door hand in hand, TK can make out the remainder of the conversation they left behind.

"You know they're literally going home to have sex right now?" Mateo mentions.

There's a beat of silence before Owen replies. "Go on, early mark for all of you. Our replacement team just clocked in anyway."

Footsteps scatter as they all take off, happy to be going home to their own beds.


End file.
